To Fall Apart Completely
by Kodaa
Summary: For an immortal, to fall apart completely is to lose nearly all you stand for, and seek comfort in those who are looked down upon because they are not perfect... Ares/Apollo.
1. The Prologue: The End

**Title: To Fall Apart Completely**

**Genre: Romance/Hurt/Comfort**

**Series: Percy Jackson and The Olympians**

**Pairing: Apollo/Ares**

**Summary: For an immortal, to fall apart completely is to lose nearly all you stand for, and seek comfort in those who are looked down upon because they are not perfect...Though, it may never have occurred to Apollo that t could happen, he is forced to be consoled by someone who had long been dubbed as 'uncaring'.**

**Warning: Incest, Homosexual Relations, Harsh Language, Possible OOC-ness**

**Rating (May Go Up): T**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson and The Olympians...TAT**

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Apollo smiled wryly, looking down at the ground. He hummed as he gently strummed out a sad tune on his lyre.

It wasn't truly a song of his own creation, actually. He had merely heard it playing on his recent trips to the human realm. It was fascinating, how the human's music was. They always sang of such odd things...love, death, loss, jealousy...Gods didn't feel those very often, you know. Those...emotions were too...er, human...And it...was only on...on rare...occasi...uh...

Apollo let out a long, dramatic sigh. Okay, it was useless. That mental monologue probably had a deep purpose, and Apollo had intended to write some fitting poetry to go along, but, alas, he lost it-choosing, instead, to take up his usual activity of observing his sister.

Apollo sighed dreamily, gazing happily at his twin sister. Artemis, the Goddess of the Hunt. She was the mesmerizing beauty that always caught his attention.

He contemplated standing up and greeting her, but decided not to, as she was with her huntresses and frankly, they creeped him out. So he settled for the two-bit stalker approach: hiding and following.

_Yeah, _he commended himself, _awesome idea, Me! Way to go! She'll never noti-_

That particular thought was cut off by a very, very agitated screech from said Goddess, "_**APOLLO!**_"

_O-Kayyy...maybe she would notice...,_ he thought indignantly as he set down his lyre and stood up straight, plastering a classic knowing smirk on his face as he sauntered out, looping an arm around Artemis's shoulders, "Hey, little sis!" he crooned. "How're you? We haven't spoken in such an _unbearably _long time!" he smiled, looking off into the distance for mysterious effect and stated dramatically, "_'Th' love of one's family is like the life of a blooming rose; if neglected, it will surely wilt and wither away into naught but a shell of the fondly dreamt illusion of what it should undoubtedly be.'_"

Artemis seethed silently for a moment, attempting to keep her temper in check, it seemed, then she shrugged out of her brother's firm grip, crossing her arms and glaring him down. "Apollo...What do you think you're doing _here_-exactly where the beast that my huntresses and I are searching for should be?" she asked, depending on her level-headed nature to conceal her annoyance, Apollo observed. It didn't work well enough to fool _him_.

He grinned good-naturedly, "Oh, I just wanted to see my darling sister! How did you know I was here?" he gushed cheerily.

"Your distinctive lyre playing gave you away." Artemis deadpanned blandly, eyeing him wearily.

"Ah." he nodded, smiling, "Well, I _really_ wanted to see you!" he repeated, this time continuing, "You never have time to just chat with me anymore, it seems." he hugged her again, nuzzling the top of her head.

"Halt." a clear, proud voice, which belonged to neither Apollo, nor Artemis, cut through Apollo's happiness at seeing his beloved sibling.

He looked up for a moment, his eyes expectantly meeting those of the cold Zoë Nightshade. He raised a thin eyebrow, an uncommon and certainly unpleasant emotion that he couldn't quite name rushing throughout his being at the sight of Artemis's favorite huntress. His darling sister's pet.

"Ah, hello, Miss Nightshade." Apollo hesitantly stepped away from his sister, though still holding her hand loyally, and bowed elegantly to the...pet. The movement wasn't at all unordinary for Apollo when he neared women, for he was quite fond of them, but the slight malice and sarcasm laced within it was made apparent by the subtle glare he shared with the girl.

Almost at once he straightened and his charming smile was back in place. He turned back to his sister, who was detaching his hand from her own and stepping over to speak to Zoë.

"Apollo, get off of me-" Artemis hissed almost silently, "Ignore him," she said coolly to her huntresses, "It's my fault he's here, just continue the hunt." she instructed, walking away from Apollo coldly to lead her huntresses.

And her little pets scampered off after their dear master...save one, that is. Great. His favorite little huntress.

"Excuse me, _Lord _Apollo," the Nightshade girl began, glaring daggers at him-in return, of course, he smirked, "Please keep thy hands away from Mistress Artemis. Thy presence hath been declared unwanted here, so why must thou waste time chasing that which is not yours?" she laughed darkly, seeing the God's eyes cloud in confusion, "You act as a love-bewitched satyr may...though, perhaps lacking their innocence."

Apollo hardened, his eyes flaring in anger, "...Excuse me? Oh, please explain this declaration, I'd love to hear how you find coherence in the nonsense." he insisted, his voice icy.

The lieutenant huntress rolled her large, but narrowed, eyes, "What fool doth thou take me for, _Lord _Apollo? All else may be oblivious, but that is merely due to the fact that the trusting fools choose not to _look_. I've seen the look in thine eyes prior to this moment, Apollo. 'Tis the look of a beast...the look of a hunter. Thou art the one who writes such nonsense over love and emotions, art thou not? Thou must notice thine own downfall...over thy own sister, no less. What she feels toward thou is naught more than the admiration of a sibling. Know that well, foolish God. Mistress Artemis hath no need for lying men, let alone her treacherous brother. My lady Artemis is sworn against thy useless romantics."

Apollo had been forcing himself not to interrupt, his eyes burning with unshed tears of anger, his heart pounding wearily at the undeniable truth in the lieutenant's words...He had known for a while now, but...as the young huntress said it...How could he deny these feelings for the wonderful Goddess of the Hunt? Oh…his painful love for the Goddess that should be his, anyway. He didn't bother to hold back the retort clawing out of his knotted throat, "At least I'm not under oath not to love, Nightshade. For me, it isn't a crime. Can't say as much of you, eh? Must be absolutely horrid...being the absolute _favorite _of your object of affection, but unable to do a thing to your own liking with her...

"Heh, such a poetic position, my dear, this may be my inspiration for weeks." Apollo shot venomously, an acidic smile plastered on his face. The huntress's face contorted in horror and hurt, settling in a hard, unmoving glare, "Oh? Surprised I can tell? You're terribly obvious about it, but hey, what'cha gonna do, eh? Hope ya know exactly what's going to happen if _my_ darling Arty finds out about this." he hummed, "You won't be a huntress anymore, Zoë, having broken your own oath, and that will be the best day of my life."

"Shut up! Thou haven't a right to speak such blasphemy! Thou lack the right to be near my lady, lest at all touch her with thine foul intent! I loathe thee, Apollo! Thou comprehend nothing!" Zoë shouted, loudly. Her voice was contorted with pain, "I shall never let thee steal my Goddess from me! Not when she's all I have...!" the huntress sobbed, glaring harder than before. "She shall loathe thee, too, should she discover thine emotions."

Apollo didn't think before he shouted back, "And you know that how? Artemis was mine first! She'll always be mine, hunter! Never forget that! We were born of the same womb-we were always together-we belong to one another because we've always had each nothing but each other!" he stepped forward menacingly, lifting his hand as if to hit the girl, "Never forget that I _can _and _will _kill yo-"

Apollo would have gone on, but he was interrupted by a powerful and certainly threatening whistle of wind. He stared blankly as an arrow narrowly missed his head, causing his hair to rustle as it flew by. Apollo glanced over at the person who had shot the warning, hurt and betrayal hidden from his face, but coursing through his veins.

"You _can_ and _will _do _what_ to _my lieutenant_?" The angry demand clawed its way from Apollo's twin's throat. Artemis was standing protectively in front of the still-sobbing huntress, anger and disgust written across her face.

Apollo just stared. He stared at Zoë, and then at his beloved, his beautiful and virtuous sister. His eyes had become glazed over, and he was looking at nothing and everything as he answered, "If she continues to provoke me. I. Will. Kill. Her." he said, bluntness intact, but the playful demeanor gone. The Goddess's eyes had broken him instantly. He had never had such a look directed at him. Not from her. Not from his twin. Not from the one woman in existence he had ever considered anything more than just a toy.

Never had he been looked at like that from his illicit love. It burnt him as the Sun he controlled could burn any challenger. It pierced him as even the sharpest dirk had failed to...It hurt like hell.

The Goddess of the Hunt's look grew more venomous by the second, and she spat out, "You will not, Apollo. You may be a God, but as am I and I will not hold back. I do not fear you, Apollo, and should you ever touch my huntresses, I will not stop and consider the fact that we are both needed for Olympus Counsel, because my hunters are my sisters, my children, they are my family, Apollo. They mean everything to me, because," she snarled, "You must keep one's family close, must you not? So be gone, Apollo. Return not among my hunters."

Apollo let no emotion cross his face as he asked, "What all did you hear, sister?" his voice was dead. He had, after all, lost to Zoë. _She_ was his sister's family. _She _was his sister's favorite. Artemis chose _Zoë_ over him. He had lost.

"I returned in time to hear nothing but your threat." Artemis spat out, before adding with utter seriousness, "And I am no sister of yours."

There was a long moment of silence as the words slashed at the Sun God's heart. His mouth was dry, his eyes quite the opposite, but his face remained stone-still. He couldn't speak, but his heart was broken into pieces.

"My lady!" a voice snapped Apollo out of it before the treacherous tears managed to slip past his eyelids, "Thou surely do not mean that, Lady Artemis! Lord Apollo was mere defending himself, Milady, 'twas I who was out of line! Please, Mistress Artemis..." Zoë Nightshade's voice cut into the God's mind. She was defending him...Apollo would have laughed had he any emotion but pain at that second. His rival defending him. He must have been quite a pitiable sight.

Artemis merely shook her head, "He is a God, Zoë. He requires more control than that, my huntress. The rules change with responsibility , and mistakes like his cannot be forgiven lest one wants them to repeat."

There was a long silence, and Apollo didn't bother to look up as Artemis said, "Come. We must be off." and left with the guilty Zoë Nightshade.

And, that was the end of a supposed 'everlasting happiness' for the God of the Sun. The end of his light; and the beginning of the dark, for better or worse.

It was a day he would never forget, because, though his twin's malice may fade, the words would always last.

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A/N: OAO;;; ... Hehheheh... ^^;

Sooo, I start the story with an angsty prologue, eh? Some (awesome) twincest t' screw with yer brains, no?

If you don't like, **Ahem**,-Incest, Homosexuality, Crude Language, and Greek Gods:** YOU _ARE_ IN THE WRONG FICTION, PLEASE GET THE HELL OUT, AND KEEP ALL HANDS AND FLAMES INSIDE THE TROLL AT ALL TIMES, HAVE A NICE DAY! :DD**

**This will be an Apollo/Ares fic, with mentions of Apollo/Artemis, Artemis/Zoë, and Ares/Aphrodite. Yeh, I'm complex :D**

If you like, let me know, cause it makes me happy, but ya don't have ta. I'll update whether ya tell me to (or not to-I've seen it when people harass authors all liek 'NAO DELETE THIS PIECE OF SHIT CAUSE I HATE IT AND AM BETTER THAN YOU SO NYEEEHHH' and it scares me ._.') I will continue it lest I get too lazy!

Thanks for reading~! :3


	2. Chapter One: A Beginning

Ares let out a bellowing laugh, stabbing through the beast who had been dumb enough to attack the famed God of War. He snorted, "Idiot." and, sneering, he walked away, allowing the monster to suffer and bleed 'til it died out.

Heh. He loved his life. No worries, no boundaries, and nothing to weigh him down. He was Ares, after all. It may not seem like it, but he was quite the lady killer. He could have anyone he wanted. Hell, he even had the Goddess of Love herself! He sneered, kicking a few rocks into the sky. Not that he really cared much about her. She was just another nothing to him, and that's how he liked it. When everyone was no one, ya had no one to lose.

Ares grinned, it was better than actually getting attached to these idiots of Olympus. Apollo was living proof of that lesson.

Ares smirked, punching a tree absently. Hah, thinking of that issue always brought a smile to his face. He loved it when the Gods argued-after all, it often led to battle, since he was there to stir things up.

It seemed things were getting pretty tense up on Olympus, in fact. The 'wonder twins' were at each other's throats, and that had everyone worried. Well...Ares snorted, at least, Artemis was at Apollo's throat, anyway. Apollo had refused to do anything about it...or anything at all. From what Ares heard, he was off hiding somewhere, bawling his wimpy eyes out over his angry little sister. The sun hadn't come out in weeks, and the dumbass humans were blabbering on about the apocalypse.

Damn, he hoped Artemis would provoke a real fight out of the God. Apollo was a pitiful mess as it was, and honestly, it was pretty disgusting to think that the God of the Sun would have a total meltdown so easily-I mean, seriously? It was just a woman! Just a toy, just a distraction! He shouldn't be so damn touchy-feely about it-acting like he was the woman instead of Artemis!

Ares found himself filled with sheer annoyance and contempt at the weakened God. He was makin' th' rest of Olympus look so bad that it would've been amusing if Ares hadn't been of Olympus himself.

Zeus had demanded that Apollo be found and convinced to bring the Sun back. Demeter wasn't allowed to mope forever, so neither was Apollo, apparently.

Ares didn't care either way. Humans were more fun to manipulate while in a frenzy, after all. Who gave a fuck if a few Demigods died in the process?

His thoughts halted immediately when Ares found himself stopping dead in the forest, gazing intently at a large tree. He couldn't think of a good reason why he was there, but he felt a sense of importance about it, and that annoyed him all to hell. He was about to walk off when he heard a very soft murmuring resounding from it.

Wait...Wasn't that...?

Poetry?

_"Light of Love,_

_Light of Sight,_

_There to Guide me through the Night._

_Her Silver bows Shine,_

_Her presence gleams,_

_But of course it would darken when shined unto me._

_God of the Sun?_

_But I've no light!_

_She alone has been my sight._

_Yet now It's gone,_

_And as am I,_

_And soon, my presence will surely die."_

Ares retracted, taken aback and moving into a fighting position. He relaxed as he began to recognize the voice, "...Apollo?" he asked hesitantly, trying not to let his voice sound concerned.

A head peeked from behind the tree, looking a little shocked, but then merely weary as it responded, "Ares." and slunk back out of sight.

Ares glared, angry that he didn't understand why the God of the Sun didn't sound like himself. The God was lacking...emotion. Everything that made Apollo...well, Apollo was suddenly gone. "Hey. What the fuck, Apollo? Depressing poetry? Hiding? Get out from behind the tree and let me see ya, ya wuss." he demanded, not understanding why a strange sense of worry was coursing through him. Why did he get the feeling something was wrong, dammit?

There was a silence. That might have been the scariest part of it all. The Apollo Ares knew wouldn't have taken an insult without screeching and cursing. Even if they didn't know each other, some things were expected of the other.

Ares was about to say something when Apollo's dead voice finally met his ears, "No." was the only word that the usually-talkative poet would vocalize.

"Apollo? What the fuck? I'm trying to be 'concerned', now get your ass over here and let me drag your sorry ass back to Olympus!" Ares yelled, forcing himself not to move and to wait until the moping freak came by himself.

Again, the response that Ares earned was a bleak silence. Ares opened his mouth to scream, but closed it violently, convinced that if he waited Apollo would say something. Surely enough, after a few minutes, there was a response, "No." There was a long pause and for a moment, Ares assumed that was all the other would say, "You don't care. No one does. Go away...I'll be gone soon enough..." Every sentence was drawn out and slow, getting the point across successfully, merely because it struck Ares again how much it didn't sound like the old Sun God.

Ares snorted after he regained his cool, "Gone? Please, where the Hell would you go? You're a God, genius. Gods can't die." he reminded spitefully, scowling. He hated the finality in Apollo's voice. It's not like he really could just be gone, dammit!

There was another long silence, but this one with a different feel to it. The emotion emanating from it was almost the arrogant smugness that was so commonly associated with the whimsical man, but, in an instant, it was just sad again. "I know." there was a long sigh, "But...They can fade, Ares. That's how I became the Sun God, after all." Apollo's voice broke and there was only a moment's interval before he whispered, almost frantically, "I'm going to fade..."

At first, Ares felt like an idiot for not remembering that. I mean, come on! Ugh! Everyone knew that Gods could fade if they wanted! Jeez...stupid.

There was another second that passed, and the meaning of the words sank in. Wait...what? Fade? No. No, Gods didn't fade unless they lost a reason to live. Apollo was the God who could look at a fucking flower and find millions of reasons to live. Apollo was the God who was so obsessed with what he did that he would survive on the brink of death so that he could finish a goddamn song.

Apollo was the touchy, arrogant, lively prophet who was full of life.

Ares found himself overcome with anger and annoyance. He would not be joked with like this, dammit all! "Quit being stupid, Apollo!" he yelled, his voice harsh and stony. "Losers fade! Are you so damn wussy that you will? It was just Artemis! Just that fucking woman! You're being an idiot! Think of everyone else at Olympus! If you go, and I could've done something, Zeus will have my...hide..." Ares hadn't meant to let his voice trail off and weaken, but that's what it seemed to do as he found himself staring at Apollo, who seemed to have simply appeared in front of him.

"Gods..." he breathed as he took in the sight of the anger-stricken god. It was Apollo. That much was obvious, because he would always have that air of knowingness to him. He would always seem to shine like the sun, bewitchingly...

But, it was all wrong. His gleaming, excited eyes were now dulled and had bags of exhaustion and stress under them. The way he would stand proudly, like a gentleman, making his presence known was gone. He seemed to have shrank, and he suddenly looked so much more fragile, and breakable. His exuberant radiance was long gone, replaced by a ghastly glow that made him seem more like an apparition than a being of flesh. He almost looked transparent, even...

It was Apollo, but at the same time...it just wasn't.

Apollo stood about a foot away from Ares, and when he spoke his voice was angry and...almost desperate, "Shut your mouth, Ares. I can't recall one second that you actually knew what you were talking about so don't try to tell me what I do know." Ares backed up minutely, finding something almost frightening in the low, echoing tone. He immediately scolded himself, stepping back up. He wasn't afraid of anything. He was the God of War, for the gods' sake!

"Fine, Apollo. You're fuckin' right. I don't get it at all." He relaxed his posture a little, looking at Apollo seriously. "So explain it. What's going on with you?"

Apollo's face remained a mask of anger, but there was a small noise of contempt that escaped his throat, "No one cares, fool. That's the problem."

Ares stepped up, scowling, "That's no damn reason to want to die-"

"And I don't!" Apollo cut him off, his voice only a small bit louder than it had previously been, but containing enough venom to make Ares hear him out. "That's it, you ass! Why would I want to die? Why would I want to leave?" Apollo's voice cracked dangerously, "I just know I'm going to. I just can feel my being becoming less and less every day, and I can feel how I can't live knowing that no one gives a damn." to Ares, it sounded silly. Stupid, even. But, Apollo was looking at him with such dead seriousness that he had to take his word for it.

"Open your eyes, genius. Your artsy crap is everywhere. Music, poetry, light...It's all around you. It's never been so alive! You're being stupid, saying that no one gives a damn. Hell, Zeus is loudly giving a damn to everyone he talks to if you'll bother to listen! I'm here, aren't I? That's giving a damn, isn't it? Snap out of it, Apollo." Ares crossed his arms, rolling his eyes.

Instead of the ideal,_ 'Oh, you really think that, Ares? Really? Oh, I love you, Ares! Let me do you bidding and start mindless wars for you because I owe you my life for your kind words!'_ response and Apollo suddenly springing to life like the Sun he represented and becoming obsessed with him, like a shining obsessive War God-Idolizer, who would inadvertently be Ares's slave for eternity...well, what really happened wasn't what Ares had hoped for like that, regrettably.

Apollo scowled, and when he spoke, his voice was so sarcastic and impatient that it burned. "Yes,_ of course_, Ares. _'Shall I compare thee to a mindless serpent? Thou art viler and less observant.'_ I'm surprised that you, of all people, would try to tell me that I'd be missed. Yes, I know Zeus is busily harassing everyone to find me and, gods, how does he phrase it? '_Fix _me'? He only cares for his demigod toys and his next whore, Ares. You know that.

"And, oh, joke of all jokes,_ you_? Giving a damn for me? Don't even try that. You don't. You even said that you were still here because otherwise Zeus would skin your ass! You're the God of War-think about it. When I fade, there will be controversy. Fights. You can work that to your own advantage! And about the arts, the lights; do you think it would cease if I fell? No, Ares! The humans are resourceful, they will live! Don't try to tell me something in this could change...!" Ares's eyes widened as a single tear shimmered down the broken god's face.

All anger was wiped from him and his mouth found itself moving on it's own, "Apollo, calm down." Geez. That's a phrase he never thought he'd say.

"Calm down, Ares? How can you tell _me _to calm down? Humans are so violent...You'll never find yourself out of your element, will you? And everyone swarms around you! No matter what, they find you like flies to a corpse! They lie, saying they hate you! They feed off of your misbehavior! It makes them feel like they're a real family, and they love you for it, no matter what you do!" Apollo's voice was a very angry, light and mocking tone.

Ares's voice was calm once more, and he felt an unfamiliar coolness growing within himself. The usually adrenaline-spiked world he lived in was beginning to slow down and it's effect was going to make him do something weird, he'd guess. "What does all that have to do with anything?"

"I mean you'll never fade...!" more tears were striping the poor man's face as he went on angrily. "You'll never have to fear simply ceasing to exist! Do you know what that's like? It's so lonely...! To know you're going to die and simply stop! Like someone has decided you don't fit in with the world's perfection so they simply omit you from their creation! It hurts! It's scary! It...it's...You just can't calm down, alright?

"...You can't even feel your element anymore, Ares! You can't sense anything! You lose your taste for all you've ever loved! It took me days to come up with that little poem you listened in on earlier! I've had no prophecies! I can't play my lyre! I can't...I can't do anything, anymore..." Apollo fell to his knees pitifully, and a strike of pity pierced Ares like a dagger as Apollo almost silently added, "It's only a few weeks left until..." Apollo swallowed, "Until I fade away."

Ares was silent, and in his scarily calm state, the world felt like it was standing still. This was so weird...Why wasn't he screaming? Why wasn't he bored or daunting?

God, Ares didn't know, but he didn't mind being able to look around and see things. Colors had different shades and hues...The forest was green due to life, millions of little living things...When had this happened? And Apollo...why did his sadness actually provoke a reaction.? Wuss...A small voice attempted, but Ares shook it off reluctantly, deciding to go with his instinct. "You're off on one thing. I am not Zeus's pet. I'll send him to the darkest pits of Tartarus before he tells anyone that. Listen here, I'm not here on Zeus's orders. Think about it, if I didn't care, would I really still be here?" Ares asked, hesitantly stooping ungracefully down to meet Apollo's eyes.

A stab of panic rushed though him for a second, and he felt like screaming. Stabbing. Violence. Gore. Why was he wantin' to be compassionate now? It all disappeared when he met Apollo's eyes again, however. He felt the cool calmness building up again and whispered soothingly, "I'm here for you right now, aren't I, Apollo?"

Apollo's eyes snapped open, and he stared at Ares for a long time before his eyebrows weakly knitted together, "What?" he asked. His voice was no longer angry, just...confused. Almost like a lost child who had been abandoned, then someone had told them that they had a home.

Ares rolled his eyes, not really annoyed, but wanting to lighten the other's mood, "I said that I'm here for ya now, right? I haven't left, so that means something. You're not alone right now, so take advantage of it while I'm in a good mood and not wanting to drag your ass away without your oh-so-important consent, hmmm?" Ares found an-and, let's be clear, it was very, very almost-kind smile on his face for a second, and gave Apollo a playful wink, "So spill it, punk. What's vexin' ya today?" Ah, gods, what the hell was wrong with him? Last time he checked, the God of War didn't wink. Or smile. Ever.

Grudgingly, however, Ares would admit it was almost worth it seeing the shell of a god relax and begin to regain his old glow...y'know...almost.

He was thinking like a goddamn sap already.

Apollo stared at Ares for a long time, and after a few seconds, he breathed, disbelievingly, "Here for me...?" the silence was broken by light peals of laughter, "That's...a twist. The God of War wants to know what's on my mind? Really?" there was a note of gut-wrenching desperation in Apollo's voice as he asked this. A final approval-if there was going to be any, _'Hah! Fuckin' fooled ya!'_s, then they had to be settled now before Apollo even tried to say anything.

Ares was okay with this, because against his sadistic nature, he was completely serious. "Really. Are you saying that you doubt me? Well, here's my advice for that," Ares moved a little closer to his fellow Olympian and whispered, keeping his voice smooth, "Don't. I'm not lying, **Brother**."

'_Brother_'. You could almost hear something snap in the air as he said that, Ares mused. In all of their lives, had he ever called Apollo his brother? Of course they were brothers but...They had never said so. Stating it made something shift in the balances of their trust of each other.

Apollo stared for a minute, but then shook his head, looking down. "Good to know, Ares..." at first Ares thought that once more, it had all gone over Apollo's head, but the next word out of the faltering God's mouth put him a little at peace, and pulled a smug grin onto his rough face.

"Thanks."

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**A/N: Aaaannnd, FINISH CHAPTER ONE! *-***

**First off, THANK ALL OF YOU FOR YOUR REVIEWS! THEY WERE THEY ONLY REASON I FINISHED WRITING THIS! XDD**

**Sorry it took so long, but shit happens, and, well, I couldn't find the time or figure out when to end this chap.**

**Also, I decided to mess with a few of you guys who decided that Apollo and Arty were creppy cause they were twins...Guess what? :D Ares an' Apollo are BROTHERS! And both MEN, for you slow people who might not have caught on. XD (Thank you, kind, educated soul who pleasantly pointed out that Greek myths were ALL incest. It gave me courage to carry on. XD)**

**...**

**Okay, bring on the_ 'EWWWW! WTF? YOU RUINED THIS FOR ME WITH YOUR INCESTUAL GHEY WRITING YOU SONNUVA BITCH!'_ comments. I can take 'em. I've gotz Ares on my side right now XD**

**I know Ares was reeeeeeaaaally OOC, but it was required for story progression. Please be patient, it'll pass in the next chapter.**

**Hope you didn't hate it too bad. Love you gaizzz~! 3**


	3. Chapter Two: A Progression

Ares sauntered into the forest, trying not to look rushed as he made his way through the tangled branches. S'not like he was worried 'r anything. Nuh-uh. He was done with that nice crap already, all he had gotten in return was a bloody hug! Yeah! No worship or groveling included! (It wasn't like he enjoyed the hug, or anything. Nope. He was too manly to enjoy huggy crap...al all...or much, at least...Screw you.)

_"Don't expect me to be this nice next time I come over here. I'll have adopted the tactic of ass-kicking-into-wellness, taught by monks everywhere, by then. Got that, punk?" Ares insisted, pushing himself up slowly, embarrassed that he had really been so...so damn mushy! It didn't even look like it helped the man!_

_But, once more, Apollo looked up to meet Ares's eyes, his vaguely shimmering orbs filled with wonder, "Next time? You're coming back? Here?"_

_Ares snorted, rolling his eyes, "Well, ya don't look like you're coming with me, so I'm stuck coming back for a visit, aren't I? It'll give you something to live for until then." Ares forced himself to start walking away from the unsure deity. He looked back and saw Apollo still sitting there dumbly. The God of War waved goodbye and added, "I will, Apollo. I swear on Helios's grave." Yeah. That serious. _

_There was a light pause and very small sigh that ensued from behind him (No, Ares. Be strong. Keep walking away. You do not care that much...), and finally a very reluctantly murmured, "...I hope you do."_

That was their parting word on the first day Ares had seen Apollo. And, of course, though Ares is a lot of things, when the right situation comes about, he's not a liar. It would take a complete asshole to just not show up after all of that shit...

...Yes. Even more of an asshole than Ares, this time.

Ares didn't come back to the forest for a week, half so that the other Gods wouldn't get suspicious, half out of sheer pride. It wasn't like he didn't have other important things to worry about...(Right..?) Yeah. Of course.

_Ares waded through the sea of vines and thorns, attempting to get back to where he had last seen Apollo. The green forest was eerily silent...He almost thought that maybe the God was gone, but quickly reminded himself that Apollo had said that it would be a few weeks before any...fading took place. He would still be there, dammit!_

_Ares stood a little straighter, trying to look aloof, and, though it pained him, walked a little slower. Why did he care either way? They had hardly ever spoken! They had shared one moment! It shouldn't matter this much...Ares muttered a few incoherent curses, kicking a stone or two. It musta been his impulse to keep a promise...Yeah...That sounded right. If he was gonna break a few swears, might as well keep one._

_Before he knew it, Ares was standing at the large tree where he had previously found Apollo, staring at the empty space. Ares swiveled his head around, but it seemed that all that was there was just dead space. Apollo was...gone. Ares fought back a wave of...what the hell? Disappointment? Ares resisted the impulse to call out his name. He was being stupid. Apollo...had probably just wandered off. It wasn't anything to worry about. What had he expected? Apollo sitting there, good as new? Or worse, waiting for him? Idiot._

_Ares was beginning to trudge away, when suddenly there was an off tune strum of an instrument and a loud, frustrated, "Goddammit!"_

_It seemed like it came from right in front of him, but nothing was there. Ares froze, then swung around, "Apollo?" he asked hesitantly, unconsciously backing up and raising his arms to fend off anything that might be hurled through the chilled air at him. Never too careful, Ares. Never too careful._

_There was a little silence, and Ares felt a strong wave of dé·jà vu. He waited a few seconds, and then was greeted with an almost cheerful, "Ares!"_

_Ares definately would have jumped if he hadn't caught himself. He tried to disguise the twitch as calm acknowledgement, though, so Apollo probably didn't notice. (Yeah. Definitely.)_

_Regardless of that, the War God realized that the voice was...happy. Alive and happy, but not quite the unrefined enthusiasm Apollo usually presented. Either way, Ares was beyond pleased with the sheer liveliness in the voice. Ares grinned for a second, but then faltered as he looked around again, pausing, "Wait...Where are you?" he asked, eyebrows furrowing._

_"Up here." the voice called back nonchalantly._

_It took Ares about a second to put those two words together successfully; up...? ... Uh...Up...here...There ...oh! Up! Ares realized a second too slowly that trees did have branches, where people did tend to perch. He mentally smacked his forehead: stupid._

_Ares finally looked up, and was greeted with two glimmering eyes, and a beaming face that was directed entirely at him..._

_Okay, before we even go on, Ares had seen millions of pretty faces, and gorgeous smiles pointed at him. He had been with millions of women, wonderful looking, great chicks! So when I say a little, I mean a damn little!_

_...But, gods, pride be damned: when Apollo smiled like that, it was like Ares had his own personal Sun, shining down on him in the dark world that had awakened since Apollo stopped riding his chariot. It was...amazing. Even enough so to make Ares heart pound (a little!)._

_Ares grinned back, but, realizing the utter unmanly-ness of grinning then just smirked, raising an eyebrow, "Felling better?" he asked...Then it occurred to him that Apollo was hanging by his knees from a branch not five feet from the top of Ares's head...no wonder he had sounded so close, "And why are you upside down?"_

_Apollo didn't stop beaming as he answered, and actually seemed to get happier, "I feel much better! You don't even know the half of it! And," Apollo stuck out his arms, revealing some sort of string instrument, "I was practicing playing."_

_Okay. Fuck it. Ares was lost, "Wait, upside down? Why the hell upside-down? I thought you couldn't play music anymore, anyway? So why are you playing that...whatever-it-is? Th' hell did I miss?"_

_Apollo shrugged...well, as well as he could shrug, upside-down, "I used to be great at playing lyre upside-down. I'm just trying to re-learn it, 'cause...Oh, yeah! I didn't tell you!" his face lit up, "Ares!"_

_Ares raised an eyebrow, deciding that since this was all incoherent, he might as well not be the only one feeling dumb, "Yes, that's my name, genius. D'we really hafta go over this?"_

_"No, no, no...Wait a minute..." Apollo fidgeted and adjusted until he was sitting upright on the edge of the branch, grinning like the Cheshire Cat, "You: I don't know what you did, but...but, somehow it's a month now! Over a whole-fucking month, Ares!" Apollo laughed, "More than a month until I'm gone! It's so wonderful!"_

_There was a pause, "...And it's good that you're fading? I think you're losin' the point of my cheering you up, kid." Ares eyebrows furrowed and his face screwed ungracefully into a scowl. What the hell was he goin' on about?_

_Light peals of laughter, little bells erupting met Ares's ears, "Gods, you're slow." the insult was said with an affectionate chuckle...well as affectionately as one could get when faced with Ares, "Don't you remember? Last week, I was dying in less than fifteen days. Now, it's fifty! So, suddenly, I can write haikus! I'm learning to play instruments again!" he sang, ecstatic now, legs swinging from his tree-branch perch, "I'm even starting to gets bits and pieces of prophecies, too!" Apollo looked down at Ares, his eyes positively exploding with gratitude._

_Ares just grinned, letting his eyes scream all of the pleased 'I told you so's, and Apollo's eyes grew warm and soft, "The point is, I'm getting better, Ares. And it was something you did." Apollo finished and smiled a little bit, then looked skeptically at the ground, sighing, "I'll elaborate in a minute, but, in the meantime, would you mind catching me? I'm at least...One, two, three...Sixteen feet above ground, and I get wounded like a human in this stage. 'Can't take ambrosia, either. I'm a virtual human-what with having to eat, sleep, I can get sick, et cetera."_

_Ares scowled. Hey, wait. What? All this shit was comming on way too fast, and Ares wasn't quite getting it. He was about to say something, too, but Apollo cut him off, smiling, "Hey, I'm not makin' ya-I owe you already, I'm just askin'. I can take a broken bone or two every once in a while, too, anyway. Even if I'm not a War God." without further warning, Apollo hopped gracefully down from the tree, bracing himself for the landing that he apparently assumed Ares wouldn't assist him in._

_Ares didn't intend to help him out, either. That's the sad thing in this whole affair. Ares never intends to-he does. But, surely enough, he found his arms reaching out to their own twisted accord to catch the lithe, blonde man who was ascending from the tree before the large man could think better of it. Damn you, reflexes of steel._

_He caught him soundly, and, much to his own chagrin, was briefly concerned at how light he was. He wasn't as restless or gaunt-looking as he had been the previous week, that was obvious...But, taking a look behind his emotional glee, Apollo still looked pretty sickly: ghostly pale and fragile. Ares wouldn't admit it should he be roasted alive by Hades himself, but he was suddenly immensely thankful he had caught his fellow Olympian._

_Meanwhile, Apollo, whose eyes had been closed in an attempt to limit the shock of the landing, were now opening minutely, one by one. The sun-lit man looked suspiciously at Ares. "...You caught me?" a thin, hesitant eyebrow shot up, disbelievingly, as if, at any moment, he might be hurled into the air and left to fall on his own._

_Ares smirked, "Looks like it, huh?" he dropped Apollo, hoping he wouldn't notice how gently the God of War set him down._

_Ares crossed his arms, annoyed that it hadn't been explained priorly, "But, wait, what does this 'virtual humanity' entail? And what have you been eating: twigs? You're way too thin, moron! Are you even alright?" Ares sounded angry, but, in his little rough way, he knew he was worried...Stop grinning, you goddamn fangirls._

_Apollo dropped to his feet, stretching a little, grinning and rolling his eyes, "Jeez, Ares, when did Hera fade and pronounce you 'Mother'?" he chuckled, but saw Ares's eyes narrow and raised his arms in surrender to the taller man, "Okay. Too soon for 'fade' jokes. I get it..." he chuckled, "Relax, Ares. I'm just...really, really happy." there was a little pause, and Ares stooped down a little to meet Apollo's eyes, trying to decipher what the God was thinking, of course, but he was suddenly engulfed in a breathtakingly warm hug._

_Ares's eyes widened, and he was frozen for a moment. Had he ever just been hugged? Ever? Ever in his whole life? Sure, those sluts who only wanted a good fuck out of him hugged him, but never...never from gratitude, or friendliness. It was odd, feeling the warmth of another being pressed against him, tightly, but not perversely. Once again, Ares felt the strange coolness bubble up within him, and he felt Apollo's strength, comfortingly beside him, and the cold, sunless breeze that vaguely intruded on his senses only made him enjoy the summer-sun-like embrace even more._

_"Thanks, Brother. I truly...truly owe you." Apollo hummed, and his voice echoed in Ares's cleared mind. It was like a song, a gentle hymn, sang only for Ares's ears. The velvet softness of his voice giving the God of War the first peace of mind he'd had in centuries._

_Ares's mouth curved into a soft, genuine smile, despite himself. "Yeah, yeah..." he breathed, awkwardly bringing an arm up to pat the God's back, but he thought better of it and just stood there, not daring to encourage it. (Be strong, Ares. Don't give in to the hug-induced glee.) "Don't you dare get used to it, brat."_

"...Spacey today, aren't we, Prince Charming?" there was a breath of warm air breathed into his face as a voice snapped Ares out of the memory.

Ares jumped at least three feet backwards, arms raised, eye twitching. "_Aiee_!" he screamed, a shrill, high-pitched noise. Ares focused his eyes to see Apollo, hanging upside down from a tree branch, eyebrow raised, and unkempt hair falling into his ever-glowing eyes.

There was a pause as they both let the silence scoff at the sheer jumpy idiocy of Ares's actions, "...I mean, '_Aiee_...am so glad to see you! Hello...there, Apollo, how...nice...it is to...see you'...I guess...uh...Fuck off." there was another pause before realization struck and Ares began, indiganantly, "An' I'm not fuckin' charming-"

"Oh, you're telling me." the witty jab was slipped in before Ares could go on, with such grace that it could only be accomplished by the blonde man.

"_Hey_! Shaddup, punk! Don't make me-"

"Missed you, too, Ares." Ares was cut off again by this soft interjection, and actually stopped in his tirade to smile a little bit at that statement. Of course, he tried to mask that in a smirk. He didn't care if he was missed. No. Never.

"Yeah? 'Damn better've, ya little ingrate." Ares grinned, snapping his finders and, suddenly, he was holding a platter of food, steaming in the cold, summer ever-night. "Here."

Apollo took it gratefully, but then proceeded to stick out his tongue, "'Almost thought ya wouldn't come, Prince Charming." Apollo sat down under a tree and began to eat.

Ares rolled his eyes, "I can tell. I didn't expect ya to stalk me down...And don't call me that." he added the last bit as almost an after thought, frowning.

Apollo chuckled, "_Stalking_?" Apolo feigned offense, "No, no, I simply walked until I heard your earthquake footfalls-would it kill you to lighten your step? You're gonna scare all of the animals away...And, what? 'Prince Charming' not _manly_ enough for you? Or too _ungodly_?" Apollo shook his head, still laughing lightly, "So superficial for such a _masculine_ god. Nice job with your _masculine _shriek, by the by. Still not used to me popping up upside down, I take it?"

"'_Ey_! Don't bite the hand that feeds you, brat!" There was no venom in the reminder, and after a few seconds Ares grumbled defensively, "No one gets used to that shit, anyway…" This had quickly become the daily banter routine that had been recited, often varying in topic and tone, but always followed by the familiar question, "Feelin' any better today?" always prompted by Ares.

Apollo grinned, apparently having been waiting for the question, "Damn straight I am! Hell, I might as well be Herakles!" he laughed maniacally, and Ares was vaguely impressed. Herakles. That was a new comarison. Usually it was a well-aimed crack at one of the gods. (Ex. 'I feel as good as Zeus's last whore!' 'So-So...About as worn out as Aphrodite's birth pills', 'No-I feel like Hades on a _good_ day.' et cetera) "Watch this," he enthused, then paused, his eyes gleaming with excitement. He clapped, and his lyre immediately faded into his hands. He held it up triumphantly, "I can summon it again!" his grin shed rainbows, and Ares was at a loss for whether he should be as pleased as Apollo, or terrified for his life. He never knew how to handle smiles like that.

"You're summoning again? So you're getting your powers back?" Ares settled for grinning, sitting down a few feet away. Falling deeper into their growing routine.

Ares was visiting Apollo nearly every day now, save the days when the gods would all meet and freak out about how no one had heard from Apollo yet. It had been a few months since Ares had began visiting his fellow God, and he had long decided that he wouldn't tell anyone about Apollo until he was ready to come back. He didn't know why, by he felt a strange, new kind of anger swell up inside of him when he saw anyone-especially Artemis-mourn. All of them didn't, but she especially had no right to sadness. It was all her fault that the sun was gone. This was odd, because, as God of War, Ares knew of every form of anger...But, this one was inexplicable, and intoxicating. It made it hard to look at Artemis, let alone pity her. It was almost unbearably close to...No. No, it couldn't be...

...Jealousy?

"Only a little. I can summon simple things, pencil, paper, instruments...Nothing impressive." Apollo snapped Ares out of his stupor, and, despite his words, sounding pretty damned proud of himself. Ares was just thankful for the distraction. Jealous? Ares? No way. He didn't care enough to be jealous of anyone, dammit.

"Pretty good. Better than nothing, isn't it, punk?" the words were playful, and anything but venomous. Ares scowled internally, how was he getting so soft? This was sick, "How's playing it coming along?" he found himself asking, and suddenly felt very pale. Not just because he had asked such a question, but because he genuinely wanted to know. He _wanted_ to hear Apollo's music.

He had missed Apollo's music. His poems. Him.

Apollo beamed enthusiastically, oblivious, and Ares found himself smiling, too, regardless of his inner turmoil. "I was hoping you'd ask that. I've been trying to write music recently..." Ares raised an eyebrow. He'd get to hear something the God composed himself? "...But since it's not working, I'll wing it." Apollo finished eagerly, positioning his lyre correctly while Ares rolled his eyes. He should have guessed. Forethought was not Apollo's strongpoint, Ares guessed.

But, that was alright. It wasn't his, either.

Ares's jumbled thoughts froze as soon as a note was strummed. A strong, deep note that echoed though the empty forest. The rest of the notes flowed quickly and gracefully after it, the music sounding skillfully ancient for this modern time. It reminded him of Ancient Greece, back in the times when both he and Apollo were in their peak of fame and worship, but hadn't known each other at all...Ares couldn't tell if it was a good or bad time, anymore. The song...Ares couldn't tell if it was fast or slow, but it flowed like water through the cracks of Ares's hand. Ares was filled with inexplicable sadness. It felt like it was raining as the song ended with a low, melancholy note, deeper than the first, but, somehow, more planned. Was it a sad, or happy ending?

Ares couldn't help but glance up at the sky. It really wasn't raining...The music had created that illusion? Weird.

Looking up, Ares almost expected to see the Sun, beaming down at him, and was vaguely surprised at the empty night, and how warm it was, even without the Sun. "Remember it?" Apollo's voice was soft, as if the song had calmed him, and when Ares looked over, Apollo's smile was warm and gentle, as if he was recalling something that Ares apparently wasn't.

Before the War God could ask, Apollo hummed, then whispered, "_Ode to the Sun and Rain_. It was a trend to play it when wars ended for a year or two. No one remembers it, really. You always grumbled about what shit it was that they played music to celebrate stopping fighting. You hated it, but I grew fond of it after a while." he smiled a little, "_'May the sun shine and rain fall, until our lost battle-ground is free of this shed blood._' That's what they would pray. That sentence, for hours to you and I, no?-They thought it fitting, praising the Gods of War and Music together. Mortals are so odd." Apollo looked up at the sky, sighing.

Ares's eyes widened, and he exclaimed, "Oh! Yeah, I remember that! Back when all'a the warriors were wimps for peace! Damn, good times. You and I would scream for hours over that. You loved it, I hated it, and eventually the Great Buzz-Kill Artemis told us both to just calm our asses down 'cause it didn't matter either way." Ares chuckled, grinning at Apollo and nudging his shoulder.

Apollo laughed, "Yeah, yeah...Sad thing is, we were actually about to get along when Artemis intervened. But, she broke the moment, and we hated each other again...As clever as she is, I might resent her for that. It's not too heinous speaking to you, after it all." Apollo grinned.

Ares nodded, smirking, "Oh? Right back at'cha…And, well, I've gotten better complements, but that works too." Ares leaned back against a tree, closing his eyes. Ahh, he was tired. He hadn't really slept since…well, he had never really slept. He wanted to try it, though. At least once, in the forest with only Apollo by his side, playing a song…Yeah, yeah. Before he had to give the God back, he had to do it.

Apollo sighed wearily again, and Ares could feel their usual conversation continuing. Neither of them wanted it, but it was unstoppable. "Speaking of such tedious matters, how _is_ Olympus?"

Ares scowled, not opening his eyes, but sighing, too, "Same ol', same ol'. Zeus knows one of us found you. It's impossible for you to just be hiding, he thinks. He's right, as usual, the smart assed bitch, but everyone thinks that it's either Demeter, or Aphrodite that's '_harboring_' you. They think either Demeter understood your pain, and really wanted a son, so is holding you hostage, or that Aphrodite is keeping you as a sex slave until Artemis brakes and wants you back." Ares smirked, surprisingly pleased with himself, "No one suspects me, though-Hell, why would they? Either way, yer safe for now."

He heard Apollo whistle, and opened an eye in time to see him smirk, "Jeez, a sex slave? Harsh." he laughed, but it trailed off and he sighed, "I can't run the Sun Chariot, though. They're out of luck for now."

"Take yer time." Ares waved off Apollo's anxieties "They're hilarious when they panic." he insisted, grinning, but looked up at Apollo, "How much light can you summon, up to date?" he asked, taking off his ever-present sunglasses, and revealing two large, startlingly brown eyes. Yeah. Not two flaming eye-sockets. That was for show whenever he was doing business…Plus, it didn't work now that the Sun was broken, anyway. Ares didn't care. It just meant that everything he saw wasn't tinted orange.

Apollo smiled sheepishly, "Uh…not enough to heat the Earth?" he offered, looking at the shadowed sky, almost guilty in his longing manner.

Ares raised an eyebrow, "Show me." before Apollo could object he insisted, "I'm cold: your fault. Summon warm. Now." he glared, but, even to him, it seemed unthreatening.

Apollo snickered at the choppy statement, "Okay, fine, ya big baby." He focused for a minute, his eyebrows furrowing, and, suddenly his hands were filled with a warm, illuminating blue flame. His eyebrows were still furrowed, but he relaxed a little, "_Aaand_...that's it. Hardly enough to fill my hands, Ares. It's pitiful." Apollo scowled, and began to dismiss it.

Ares put a hand up, "Pitiful?" he scoffed, "It's warm enough for me, and that's all that I asked for, ain't it?" he moved closer to Apollo and dropped down on the leaves ungracefully, closing his eyes. "Now, keep it there 'til I fall asleep-babysitting you is too much work, after all. I'm under-paid. Woe is me. I need a break. I wont charge you any rehabilitation-help fees if you let me sleep." Ares insisted drearily, and opened one eye a little and grinned, "Got all that, punk?"

Apollo raised his eyebrows, and rolled his eyes, "Gods, you really _are_ a baby. Rehabilitation fees? Please, if anything, this is community service. Better helping me than becoming Hephaestus's new toy, right?" Apollo grinned, but snapped, and made the little ball of fire levitate, happily glowing and sparking at it's use.

Ares smirked, and shrugged, "Depends on how bad you nag." he closed his eyes again, "Ah…Much better." he sighed, throwing his hands behind his head as a pillow.

There was a light silence, and a half-hearted sigh, "Go on to sleep, Ares."

Ares heard the smile in his voice, and smirked in return. Finally. The last thing he heard before he was completely out was a very muffled and begrudging, "…Thanks, Ares…"

OoooO

"Get up, you useless cretin!" a shrill voice struck Ares like a sledge-hammer, waking him up from his sound sleep. He felt the point of an arrow against the back of his skull, successfully using his battle instincts to get him up entirely.

What the fuck? Who th...the voice registered in Ares's mind like an imploding mine. A demented, sickeningly high-pitched, poorly done replica of Apollo's voice.

Wait…Artemis?

Shit.

* * *

**A/N: :O**

**Cliffhanger?**

**Whut happened? O.O**

**I FINALLY give you a new chap, and it's THIS? :O I would shoot me, were I you.**

**Haha, this chapter is too long, poorly written, hard to follow and utter shit. :D**

**Hope ya liiiieeekked it XD**


	4. Chapter Three: A Witty Chapter Name

"I said get up, Ares." Artemis growled, prodding the back of his head. Ares didn't let his face change as he remembered what exactly was going on here. Okay, Ares, think...

Oh. He was on Olympus, apparently havin' fallen asleep under a tree after another meeting. It was the same shit as usual, of course, and he had been bored. Ares yawned, relaxing as he slowly realized that his brother hadn't been found, and Artemis was still clueless. Oh, gods, that was convenient.

Ares glance around, yawning again. No wonder he remembered his last visit t' his fallen brother: this tree was fuckin' comfy. If only th' Sun was shining...

A particularly violent prod with the arrowhead retrieved Ares's attention again, and he didn't bother to acknowledge Artemis as he got to his feet, hoping t' Zeus that she'd bug him again. Go on: try and order him around _one_..._more_..._time_. He _dared_ her.

He hadn't been a very good War God as of late, and it was never too late to kill some bitchy virgin huntresses.

The tip of her arrow met his skull again, and he didn't hesitate to break the stupid thing in half, cutting her off before she could say another word. He threw the discarded arrow off and gripped the huntress's arm violently, half-tempted to bend it back or break it off. He didn't know why the hell he didn't, really. The bitch deserved it for thinking she had any power over the _God_ of goddamned _War. _He couldn't let word get around that he was goin' soft.

"Sorry, what was that?" Ares growled, feeling his adrenaline, red hot and quickly refilling all the parts of him that Apollo had calmed. "I fuckin' don't think ya know who yer talkin' to, kid." he grinned, the craziest grin he had since he started meeting with Apollo, "D'ya think I should _remind _you?"

Artemis was taken aback by his outburst. Ares knew it. She knew it. And _hell_, Ares was goddamned ecstatic about it. He bent her arm back, grabbing her other wrist and squeezing it until she dropped her stupid bow, "Not so tough _now_, are we punk?" _This_ was it. This was _exactly_ what he missed.

Artemis regained composure, and glared for all she was worth. Really? It made Ares wanna laugh, and he remembered why it was so fun being a top-notch asshole, "I...want to know where my brother is." the Huntress spat through her teeth, knowing well that even if she wasn't in the form of a twelve year-old, she wouldn't be able to get a fair fight from the War God right now.

Ares didn't blink, only scowled, furrowing his eyebrows in disgust. What? Did she _know_? "I know you haven't been looking for him, _Lord Ares_," Damn, he missed it when people would talk to him like that, "And I know that if you tried, you would find him with ease and bring him back to m-to Mount Olympus. For the Sun."

Ares seemed to scowl even harder, even though she didn't know about his 'secret'. He was even more pissed than he had been before, actually. Who said Apollo wanted to go back? It was obvious that Artemis missed him, but it was just as obvious that she didn't want to admit that she was fucking wrong, and an ass. And she thought he would help her? If anyone thought he was gonna put up with such shit, then he had t' fix that. Quick.

Ares threw the Goddess to the ground, stepping on the back of her neck with his heavy boot, he applied pressure, "Let's get a few things straight, _Princess_." he spat out the word, grinding his foot into her flesh to make sure his point got across, "I don't even know why th' hell you'd ask _me_ t' find yer little boy-toy for ya-didn't _you_ drive him th' hell away? Take some responsibility, will ya? Pitiful. Can't ya accept that not everyone fucking loves you and your holier-than-thou opinions?" Ares smirked, "How do ya know he's not dead by now, anyway? It's a tough world beyond your stupid safe-house walls and perfect huntress-bitches: for all we know, Apollo's fallen into Tartarus by now!"

Ares kicked her as she began t' speak, and before she could scramble up, Ares had his boot planted firmly in the small of her back. His expression didn't change as he summoned his sword, and flexed his hand before pressing the tip to the base of her neck, "I oughta kill you, ya know? Maybe after some time 'asleep' you'll know yer place, _woman_." He was angry. Pissed off that Artemis missed Apollo. She didn't even deserve that much. He smirked, he wasn't really amused, but, he was always up for some begging. "Though...I might make it quick if ya plead for it. Won't even try t' find ya again an' _make sure _ya learned yer lesson. Go on, girlie, _beg_."

Ares didn't know what he expected. He just wanted something. Some...proof that he was _not _going soft, damn it. He was the heartless jackass that no one liked, and he was keepin' it that way, even if he had t' kill a god. Any god.

He didn't expect Artemis to look him in the eye like that, though. He knew that much, even if, conventionally, he knew nothing more than the ability to say "I'm going to fucking kill you" in nearly every language. She didn't flinch, but gave him the coldest, emptiest look, "I'd just as soon take defeat in silence, Ares. I was foolish and acted rashly, and this it but suitable punishment." she held Ares's eyes, ready to be temporarily slain, only to come back in a few days completely dishonored in the face of all Olympus.

And he'd be damned if he didn't see Apollo in those fucking annoying eyes.

And he'd be damned if he didn't hear Apollo in that fucking annoying voice.

And he'd be damned if he didn't see Apollo in that fucking annoying woman, cold and broken, thin and frail, in the forest behind the annoying ass tree telling Ares to go away because he'd rather just die in peace.

And Ares would be damned again if it all didn't annoy the fuck out of him by making him let the Goddess go. "Damn right ya would." he was already walking away when he mumbled this. He didn't pause in his stride when he called back to her, "Find yer brother your own damned self!" Ares didn't pay attention to her now, he was too lost in thought.

Of course, if Apollo would want to die in silence, of course stupid Artemis would. They were twins. They were family. They were the fucking perfect roles to play in Hera's fucking perfect family on Mount-Fucking-Perfect-Olympus. Ares was stupid for just now realizing the fact he'd been trying to ignore.

He was fucking the 'perfect fairy tale' up, really. Who the hell did he think he was: a war god trying to play hero to some sniveling brat? Ares was just stopping the kid from getting lonely and going home like all runaways do. Apollo wouldn't fade. He was just a kid looking for attention, and the only place he could get the attention he needed was back at his home with his sister. Ares was just messing it up, and ruining the script.

I mean, really? It was like a bad joke: a War God taking in the God of Music like some damned stray dog. In the end, the dog would miss it's family, wouldn't it? In the end, the moron who took in the stray gets bitten because he doesn't let go, and the stupid-ass dog runs of with his stupid-ass sister and doesn't think about his stupid-ass rescuer ever again. Cue punch line here.

The more Ares got attached to that damned dog, the more it would hurt when his hand get's bitten and the dog runs away again. That was it, right? Like in a fairy tale, Ares would be turned into the bad guy who tricked Apollo into not going back home, and it would be a great happy fucking ending when the bad guy get's left for dead and Olympus becomes a happy family again.

And who doesn't love a happy family?

All of the sudden, Ares felt horribly, horribly ill. It wasn't right, really, the God of War getting worked up over some stupid kid. It was stupid, and insulting, and it was annoying how much Ares was getting attached to the 'stupid kid'.

He needed out. He needed a break. Ares needed fucking something, and he needed it like a hell-hound needed boiling blood. Ares clenched his fists, gritting his teeth. Apollo could wait a while. Apollo could wait a whole fucking lifetime, because Ares needed a mindless way to relieve stress in the only place he knew how to.

"Ohh..." Aphrodite's silky voice drawled out for miles, and Ares felt her feather-light touch resting on his chest before he saw her glimmering blue eyes. He didn't think about how they used to be brown. He was probably wrong, anyway, "I haven't seen you in _so_ long, Ares!" Aphrodite stepped aside, allowing him through the hotel's gray doorway before the door shut with a finality that seemed a little weird, even to Ares. "We _have_ to catch up." she smiled a slow, sultry smile as she approached Ares.

Ares didn't object-you know,_ at all_-but was somehow struck on the fact that Aphrodite's face today was...different. He was used to it changing to whatever he found sexy at the moment, but now it just seemed to be like a contorted version of...Artemis's? What the hell? Only the features were...different. Kind of like...

And, Ares decided to stop thinking when he realized exactly who she looked like.

* * *

**A/N: Oh...I...didn't mean to wait this long to post. My bad. ;_;**

**Either way, I hope this was different! What? Did you expect a _gushy, happy_ Ares to stay right off the bat? Or at all? XD Silly humans and your silly human notions!**

**Hope that wasn't disappointing, and I'll try to update faster~ 3**


	5. Chapter Four: An Insinuation of Conflict

_One week_.

Okay. Yeah, Olympus hooked him, huh? How boring...

_Two weeks_.

Ah. Seven more days than usual. This was like, a record or something. A long time for sure. He'd be back by tomorrow...

_Three weeks_.

_Four weeks._

_Five weeks_.

Apollo bit his lip nervously.

But then he stopped himself, because he wasn't nervous. Being nervous was for mortals and people who had no control over their situations. And Apollo totally, totally had a ton of control over his situation. Totally.

It had been six weeks. As of today. As of this hour. And maybe, kind of even as of this minute. Don't be judgmental. Exactly six weeks since Ares had last visited. It had been over a month, and Ares hadn't dropped by, hadn't left a note, hadn't Iris messaged, hadn't...hadn't done anything at all.

He didn't know why he was surprised. It must have been an accident, or something. Since when had he known Ares to be reliable, though, even if it was intentional?

Why did it even matter? Apollo had tons of better things to do. Like...like he could play his lyre. The one that had been out of tune for over a week? Yeah, that one.

Oh, well! He could think up some haikus! Yeah! Everyone loved his haikus! Especially him!

Let's see here...

'_It's super dark here._

_And wet and cold and leafy._

_It gets kind of old.'_

Yeah! That was great! He'd have to share it with...

Ares. When he got back.

Damn.

Okay. Okay, okay, here's goes, Apollo. Last shot. Prophecies. C'mon. Focus.

Apollo closed his eyes tightly, putting a hand to his temple. He would do this. Yeah. C'mon.

Faded flickers of images hinted at his minds eye. He saw...himself. Under the tree. Much like he was now. And much like he apparently would be for the rest of his life.

What the hell, visions? What the hell?

Apollo opened his eyes, wishing the sun was out. Of course, that little bit was his fault. It wasn't his choice, really, he just..._couldn't_. Apollo looked around, wishing there was light so he could see all of the trees and their shadows...so he would maybe be able to see the towering shadow of his savior storming back to the knotted old tree where Apollo would be waiting. You know. Like Apollo would always be waiting. Of course.

Apollo's curled fist found it's way to the bed of leaves and a single pillow Ares had brought him, now dusted with dirt, "Dammit!" What if something had happened? If Zeus knew that Ares had been keeping him a secret...Ares could be suffering while Apollo was stuck here, under this goddamned tree, too scared to even leave the forest, let alone find his way back to Olympus.

He started to growl, looking to the sk-wait...

Whoa, _whoa_, wait.

Since when had he taken to growling?

Holyshit. Something was wrong.

Growling was barbaric, growling was animalistic, growling certainly wasn't for a refined poet such as himself. Not for a prophet or a musician, or anything Apollo used to pride himself in being. It just wasn't right, y'know?

Ares was rubbing off on him too much-he'd have to scold that guy when he finally came back. That man really should refine his etiquette! After all...

The fallen God stopped himself again before he could let such a thing slide. The thoughts came too easily to Apollo, like it was a natural thing.

And it certainly was _not_ a natural thing.

It took him a moment to realize what he'd even insinuated, and that disturbed Apollo more than he'd like to admit. But when it hit him, it hit him with the force of a freight train powered by all of the anger in the underworld.

Ares was rubbing off on him.

The God of War, the barbaric, the disgusting, the chauvinist pig of the gods, and himself. _Himself_, God of Music, the poetic, the charming, the suave, shining Sun among Olympus. Had this been a century ago...Had this been a decade ago...Had it been a year ago...never would he have allowed any single soul-especially himself!-suggest they be as close as they were now. Suggest that Ares mean anything to him, on any level. Apollo would have laughed, a wind-chime, light, well-behaved laugh. Apollo would have walked away and left it at that: simply an idea to laugh at. He would have told his sister that he'd heard the _grandest_ joke! But, now...

Apollo's face met the rough palm of his hand, fingers tugging at golden-tinted hair in well-earned frustration.

'Cause he'd be damned if he didn't love the idea of the two of them in unity.

Dammit.

Apollo took in a deep breath. It wasn't like him to be so...on-edge. Really, there had been worse. This was nothing. Maybe it was part of his fading, kind of like how menopause in human women made them moody. He didn't know.

And, _bam_, there it was. _There_ was the problem. There was what started all of this.

Apollo's fading.

His fading...Six weeks had him worried. It had taken only weeks of his depression for the time limit to be at only two weeks until his death. But...It had taken a day-a single, miniscule, seemingly average day-for it to be backed up to a whole month.

Since then, things were looking entirely up. Most of his abilities and essence were returning, and he had nearly a year and a half until the fading, and even that span was growing with every passing second. Of course, Apollo wasn't strong enough to, say, bring the Sun back or do an efficient prophecy, but soon the idea of fading would be just a bad dream to him.

And it was Ares's fault.

Ares was the cause of it, for Zeus knows what reason. Ares had, again for an unknown reason, brought himself to sit down and listen to everything. Every problem Apollo had ever encountered, every stupid epiphany, every song he'd written that just didn't turn out right and he'd wanted to talk about for some reason: Ares had listened and nodded and gone, "Oh, yeah, izzat right?" He may have been the god of war and anger, but that made him as unbiased as he was. He wanted a fight. All else about a person: their race, species, religion, sexuality...anything else was irrelevant. He would just listen. And in the end it hadn't mattered if he'd taken anything in or really heard a word Apollo had said.

Because, gods, no one ever listened.

And they'd _talked_! For fuck's...for goodness's sake, they'd talked about normal things! It was never, "Will you do this?" or "Help me with that." It was genuine conversation and Apollo had eaten it up. No one in Olympus talked. They sat. They bantered, but never with feeling. They asked favors and doted over humans, and it wasn't until he's really seen Ares that Apollo realized that it all just sucked as badly as modern pop music.

Everything he'd loved in his life was fabricated. Ares made him notice. Ares was the difference. Ares was real, he was honest, he was blunt, he was rude, he was an ass...but he knew who he was. He acted like who he was. He didn't care about his appearance in the face of Olympus and that had him at the bottom of the food chain.

It wasn't fair.

It wasn't fair that Ares always got the shit end of the shit stick on shit Olympus. It wasn't fair that Apollo had started to fade. It wasn't fair that Apollo had left and it had become everyone's problem to convince him to feel better, and Ares had been the unlucky one to get babysitting duty. It wasn't fair that Apollo had trusted Ares and smiled at Ares and talked to Ares and became friends with Ares and _cared_ about Ares and how _un-bloody-fair _his life was, and it wasn't fair that it all bothered Apollo more than being told that Artemis didn't get her kill or Artemis lost a huntress or Artemis was angry because the gods were stupid ever had.

Apollo had stopped providing the Sun, he'd abandoned Olympus, and here he was. Safe, hidden in a forest, and not having to face the music while Ares was probably being punished for his own screw up. No. That wasn't fair.

It wasn't fair.

And for a moment, Apollo spared a place in his mind to ponder the chances of his developing a complex on fairness, or lack thereof.

Apollo was up and running. Damn it. He was tired of all of the bullshit. He was tired of fooling around with stupid humans and doting over mentally-impaired demigods who were always, always whining about how no one loved them.

Why did anyone put up with it?

Apollo felt a smile, a crazy, hopeful smile that made his cheeks ache grow on his face as he got closer to the edge of the wood. He would change his life if he didn't like it. He could, he _knew_ he could. He could stop listening to the council gripe about humans and Chronos and how Rhea would have wanted this and Gaia would've wanted that and so and so was sleeping with Zeus/Aphrodite and Hera/Hephaestus was angry again. He could just _be_.

Just like Ares.

And, you know? Apollo was getting closer to the end of the forest. Maybe that wouldn't be such a-

"Well, well, where's Olympus's pretty little celebrity going at such a dark hour?" no sooner than he passed the last tree did a sickly sweet voice stop him dead in his tracks. He felt the ghosting touch of a woman's hand on his shoulder, and was greeted with enough perfume to knock out a horse, "Of course, four in the afternoon wouldn't usually be this dark, but someone was being a baby up on the mountain. You wouldn't happen to know why that is, would you, sweetie?"

Apollo's teeth ground against one another as he let out a sigh, closing his eyes, "Where's Ares?" He'd been caught, hadn't he? That's how Aphrodite knew to wait for him. Ares was being tortured somewhere, and now there was nothing he could do.

Laughter chimed out behind him like the tinkling of silver bells, and the Goddess of love moved around to look him in the eyes, her hand trailing down his cheek, "Don't look at me like that, dear. I'm on your side, sweetie, I'm just a little angry I haven't been able to tan for a few months."

She smiled the smile of a serpent. Apollo should've ran. He should've left before the words could leaver her perfect mouth.

"I'm actually here to give you a message."

Apollo stiffened. The gods could watch him now. When he'd left the forest, he'd felt Ares' aura leave him naked to the observers. Anyone who was looking could find him now. He smacked her hand away from his face, "Leave me be, Aphrodite. Tell me where Ares is."

She made a gentle 'tch' noise. "I can't do that, though of course I want to." Her voice turned sullen, and she gave Apollo a sad, sad look, "I'm the Goddess of Love, Apollo. I know why you want to see him. I know why you've been thinking of him. And I'm sorry, I really am." Aphrodite reached out and squeezed his hand sympathetically.

Her next words opened his ears like a nuclear explosion would have. "Ares has forbid it. The message is from him. You know where he's been through the month, don't you? He's been visiting me. Of course I could smell you on him, and I asked him...He'd said he didn't want to talk about it."

Don't listen, don't listen, don't listen.

You don't want to hear the rest Apollo, you don't.

Don't-

"He said he'd made an awful mistake..."

She's lying, she's gotta be.

"One he wouldn't go back to. Not ever..."

You know him. He wouldn't say that.

"I finally got him to talk to me...and, well...he told me he'd been playing a joke..."

She can't be serious.

"...He said it was hysterical, and you'd been believing him...He said he'd always hated you, and he was trying to push you over the edge..."

No.

What were the chances that...Ares...Ares who had never liked him, Ares who he'd always...always fought with, mean Ares, Ares the pig, Ares the heartless bastard...what were the chances he'd do that?

What were the chances he _wouldn't_, dammit?

"But he told me he was finally...oh, dear, I'm sorry, he told me he was finally sick of you and ready to leave you alone...he wasn't going to go back...but I told him that I couldn't let him do such an awful thing. He said whatever, and I rushed over to tell you, Apollo." Aphrodite put a hand on his shoulder, "I'm sure it was just puppy love, baby. You know what kind of a man Ares is, don't you?"

Apollo's eyes were glued to his feet, he didn't nod. He didn't look at her. "Take me home."

0w0

Ares hadn't talked since he'd woken up at Olympus and seen the Sun shining through his window. He'd jumped out of bed, exclaiming something like, "_Holyfuckingshitballs_!" And run to the common room.

And now he was looking at the better part of the gods surrounding something familiar looking. Said familiar figure was lounging in a chair, engaged in conversation with the Goddess of the hunt, "Yeah! And, I was, like, _this_ close to being as gone as Pan is!" a voice Ares had gotten to know too well within the last few months was laughing charismatically as the others 'oohed' or scoffed.

"And you couldn't summon your Sun Chariot?" Artemis's face looked twisted and apologetic, and she was holding Apollo's hand tightly as she asked. Ares swallowed, stepping a little closer to the gathering Apollo met his eyes briefly, but with as much interest as he'd regard a nymph with.

Apollo nodded, smiling, "Mmhmm! I hate that I caused you all so much grief, but it's no problem now! Yesterday I got this _huge_ asshole-I mean _weight_, of course, off of my shoulders when I left the forest. It was strange, I'd befriended a useless little pig while I was alone, but now I see that it was just me trying to replace you all. It's nice to be back." Yeah? It was_ fucking great_ to have him back.

And Apollo asked who would like to hear a poem about his experience.

And, for once, everyone in the goddamned room agreed.

Well, everyone but Ares. But no one saw a problem with it, of fucking course. Things were back to normal.

* * *

**OHGOD.**

**I've been working on this one foreeeeeevvvveerrr.**

**I mean, crap, man, why has it taken so long? I've been thinking about this plot twist for moooonnnttthhhssss. 3**

**I hope you are all thoroughly disappointed. I really tried.**


	6. Chaper Five: A Pointless Chapter

A big, nasty old question Aphrodite ran into a lot in her line of work was, "Don't you feel bad about doing that?"

She flashed a slow smile at her handheld mirror, testing her new makeup, examining her flawlessly applied lipstick. Perfect, of course. She brushed back her hair with one perfectly manicured hand.

Aphrodite would always smile, a big, beautiful smile that would make even a married woman's heart pound a _little_ faster, "No."

And she didn't, baby. She really didn't.

Lies...pain...heartbreak, it was all a part of love, wasn't it? Who was she to deny certain couples of that? To decide who got the easy road?

Especially if Aphrodite just so happened to have a quarrel with them. If you were in her place, would you give them happily-ever-after?

No.

And you wouldn't, honey. You really wouldn't.

She floated onto her feet, graceful as a swan, making her gentle way through the castle and into the garden, gifted with the knowledge that everyone was watching. The flowers would make her look like an angel with the sugary-sweet look she wore today, especially with the sun out at last. Nymphs turned their heads as Aphrodite walked out, looking back down to what they were doing as she passed, embarrassed that they'd looked to begin with. The satyrs didn't even try to hide their attention, kicking one another immaturely to direct their attention to none other than the Goddess of Love.

It was a good life.

She had it all.

She was _so_ lucky.

She had _no_ reasons to complain.

Why _was_ she so bitter?

Gods, Aphrodite was _such_ a bitch.

Why did she have to make things so _difficult _for everyone else?

It was _so_ unfair.

So unfair that little people with their little lives should have to feel something other than happiness with someone that didn't love them to begin with.

She was so evil. So rude for letting the knocked-up girl know her boyfriend had no intention to stick around. Crude, for letting a rich man know the girl was only around because he was rich; for letting the girl know the guy was gay and she was a cover-up; for letting the gay guy know his boyfriend wasn't right for him, even if he _was_ the only other openly gay man in the state.

Humans, gods, nymphs, satyrs, merfolk, titans, cyclopes: they were all the same idiocy, with any species you could name.

Aphrodite sat down slowly on one of the marble benches, pretending to admire the plethora of flowers surrounding her. She stroked the petals of a red rose, looking up just in time to catch one of the lesser gods' eyes. She smiled a light, flirtatious smile before they looked away.

He would make a nice distraction for tonight, she knew it. It didn't seem like Ares was in much of a mood for play time today, anyway.

And he wouldn't be, would he?

He was just as stupidly absorbed in the little, stupid world he'd made up as Apollo had been.

And, for a rare moment, Aphrodite nearly lost it. Just the thought of those two ripped at every nerve in her body, and there was just a simple, little, silly reason why.

They were breaking the rules.

There were rules made among the gods. Rules created and upheld to preserve peace upon Mount. Olympus. Each God had at least one: Hephaestus' being not to touch his junk yards, Zeus' being not to mention any of his affairs to Hera, and Hera's being not to have an affair with Zeus, et cetera, et cetera. They were golden rules, and though they were seldom mentioned, they were respected.

Apollo hadn't respected it. He'd gone and made Ares forget the rules, too.

Aphrodite's rule was simple and sweet: her people were _her _people.

And it was important to her that they remained hers alone. It was the world to her. They kept her sane, they kept her safe, they kept her smiling, and deadly, and beautiful.

And that was the part so little people understood.

Being the Goddess of Love wasn't just always being loving, it wasn't just being lustful, it wasn't just constantly frolicking along and ruining peoples love or healing it; _that wasn't it_.

Love was so much more complicated than just that.

The love of a parent and a child...the love between to friends...the love between two confused teenagers...the love of a married couple...the love of gods and mortals...Being the Goddess or God of something meant more then just reaping the perks. Just the thought of love; that wasn't the _point_.

It wasn't even close.

The point was the connection. Aphrodite felt it all, when a lovers parted, when lovers cheated, when lovers died cold and alone on a battlefield as their other half wept _Aphrodite experienced it_.

The rush of a first love, the fall of a marriage, the sting of adultery. She was in touch with it all, and yes, it was a game to her, but it still killed her every time. When mother's lost their children, when husbands lost their wives, when children lost their fathers, the pain lasted.

Aphrodite floated on, however. She'd give a fuck or two, break some hearts, because she had control over that much. She could create joy and pleasure, and she could take it away with the flick of a wrist. She could induce the strongest love, break the tightest bonds. She had control. She clung to it.

But as the Goddess of Love, she thought she handled it all pretty well. She was wrathful, she was jealous, but she was the embodiment of every second of trust and hope and adoration you feel when you're in love, so she let the games play out as they would, interrupting only slightly, and only on the dullest of days.

Aphrodite began as nothing, with nothing, for nothing.

She'd grown. She was not her own, she never had been. She was love, and love was flexible. Indefinitely changing. She had no face, no body, no hair, no nothing. She, out of all the Gods, was the least substantial. You couldn't describe her, because she changed for you. She was always going to be what you wanted. She was always going to a beautiful beacon of everything you could ever ask for.

And all she'd ever asked for was that her rule be maintained.

In the beginning, she'd claimed people. She needed people to fall back on, people she could love because no one else ever would.

Hephaestus. He was such a sweetie. He was crippled, rough, decrepit...but he was hers. Banished, shamed, hideous, but so kind. He had the heart of gold, dropping everything and anything for Aphrodite, because she did love him. She loved him, and he loved her for that; for once, her beauty was irrelevant to anything about their relationship.

The Sirens: Aglaope, Himerope, Leucosia, Ligeia, Molpe, Parthenope, Peisinoe, Raidne, Teles, Thelchtereia, and Thelxiope...They were her babies. Their music was so beautiful...Aphrodite never understood why they were vilified so. They were hungry. Wasn't it the same as hunting? She didn't really care. She loved them, because no one else would or could. But, in their animalistic way, they knew it. And, in their animalistic way, they loved her, too.

And Ares. Ares, the angry, the stupid, the uncontrollable. He was her toy. The one everyone disliked because of how he acted, the one who really didn't care. He liked her for her looks and sex. She knew that: it's not like it was a secret. She was okay with that, too, because even if someone else really did fall in love with Ares, there was no way Ares would love them back. Not really.

He was hers. Forever.

And then...things changed.

It had been no real secret that Apollo had a thing for Artemis. It had been that way for centuries, and it would be that way for centuries. That's what people figured, after all, because Artemis had an oath. It would be mad to expect her to break it for her hippie brother.

It was the last thing Olympus expected when Artemis and Apollo had a real fight, and Artemis had been serious enough to threaten Apollo.

Aphrodite had been thrilled, really. It was high time _something_ happened between those two, that was for sure. She loved drama, though she hated the pangs of empathy her heart felt when it happened.

When the Sun disappeared, she wasn't surprised. It _was _Apollo, after all. The diva, trying to pull a Demeter. She'd been annoyed at most.

Then things snowballed, and no one but herself seemed to notice the coincidences.

Music lost it's appeal, slowly, but surely.

Poetry wasn't a romance, anymore, but a bore.

The arts were no longer points of interest, but hindrances as the time from Apollo's departure lengthened.

Personally, Aphrodite hadn't cared much. She and Apollo were never as close as they should've been, even by god standards. Zeus, however, ever focused on mortal beings and their (sex) interesting quirks, took the hint to be alarmed. He pressed down harder on everyone to search, offering rewards and making promises they knew he wouldn't fulfill.

Ares had been pissed. That was another thing Aphrodite and Ares shared: a lack of fondness for their dear, lost relative. He'd screamed at Zeus, at Artemis, at even Aphrodite herself, raising his fists and breaking through walls. Bullshit, he'd called it when the Goddess of Love had tried to talk to him about it.

It had made Aphrodite smile.

No one else had tried to talk to him. He was still hers, more than he was anyone else's.

But, Ares had looked, as instructed. Looked meaning that he refused to go to Olympus, instead venturing to secluded places he was sure the drama queen wouldn't be hiding in, cracking his knuckles in annoyance every time Aphrodite would check in on him.

She didn't mind.

He never sent her away. Not really.

Aphrodite had known something was different when she'd found herself enjoying music again, cooing over romantic poetry her sons had concocted.

She was even more sure when Ares stropped visiting her. He's always been unreliable, sporadic with his visits, but this time...he'd stopped entirely. As usual, Aphrodite had felt a pang of envy, the urge of wrath. Just like she did every time something of hers was missing.

She gave it time, however.

He would come back eventually.

He always did, you know?

So, Aphrodite wasn't surprised when Ares had showed up on her doorstep, completely sober, without even the slightest hint of anger.

Yes, she was angry.

But, no, sweetie, she wasn't surprised one bit.

She wasn't shocked when, as she tugged off his shirt, all she could smell was stupid, goddamned, whiney Apollo.

Mhm, she was jealous.

But, no, honey, she wasn't shocked.

Was she going to do something about it? When his eyes lit up with realization because the face he wanted to see in Aphrodite was _stupid, goddamned, whiney_ Apollo?

She wasn't really angry at Ares.

But, yes. She willing to do anything and everything that would change it.

So she did.

She lied through her teeth, she played every card in her deck, she threw salt into the wound, she stomped on any hope that she was lying, _she did it. _She did it for Ares. She did it for her rule, for her love, for her happiness. For her property.

So, no.

Even while Apollo was feeling tricked and played and angry...

Even while Ares was trying to figure out what happened, betrayed, and mad...

She didn't feel bad about it.

Ares was hers, baby.

So, she really didn't.

* * *

**A/N:**

Ah.

Yes.

Well.

Mhm.

Glad you understand.

...

Okay, well this was the product of me trying to make a little more sense of the last chapter.

I figured...well, Aphrodite has her reasons.

And she was lying.

In case that wasn't obvious, I really can't tell if I insinuated it enough in the last one.


	7. Chapter Six: Some Outside Opinion

Sometimes, there were things that people just couldn't process.

This, Hades was absolutely, positively sure, _was_ one of those times.

"...Uh-_huh_." He vocalized, calmly assessing the sight he tried to tell himself he wasn't seeing. And, if Gods ever dreamed rather than having visions, he might've just believed himself and moved on with his simple life schedule. He knew it too well: Tend to the dead, curse brothers, punish the dead, scream at the sky, don't give Charon a raise, be nagged by Persephone, regret past mistakes, rinse, repeat.

Apparently he just wasn't good enough for that today; like he wasn't good enough for Olympus, friends, a willing wife...

Moping was a big part of Hades' day.

Get over it.

Ah, yes, back to that little, hellish surprise that Hades just _couldn't believe _he was so un_lucky_ to receive.

In his stylish, modern decor living room angrily sat one of his brethren: one of the three main _reject_ gods.

A tall, bulkily built man with an angry black, buzz cut and a square, iron jaw set so tightly that it could probably crack a bank vault's lock in half. Too-small sun glasses perched on his nose, the glow of hellfire-which Hades _did _find quite charming-burning brightly beneath them.

The god was looking at his floral couch like it had personally spit in his face, not meeting Hades eyes (which was nice, as Hades didn't want him to). He growled at Hades' answer, stomping a steel-toed boot roughly onto Hades' designer rug, ruining the fabric for the rest of eternity. _Great_.

"Don't you fuckin' '_uh-huh_' me, Hades. Don't you fuckin' _dare_." The man spat at my impressively calm answer and met my eyes with that endearing fire I lived in. Had I been in better spirits, I well may have laughed and taken such a reply eagerly.

Unfortunately, I was not, and hadn't been in centuries. "Or you'll _what_, Ares? _Kill _me?" I wiggled my fingers sarcastically, imitating a human's impression of a ghost, though lacking any emotion, "Ooooh. Scary." I sat down in a charmingly furnished powder blue chair, crossing my legs and intertwining my fingers, "I'm home, Ares. Where _would_ you send me in death?" I sighed, dreading my question and pressing two fingers to the center of my forehead to calm myself, "Now, did you _really_ come all the way _here_ to talk to _me_ about your problems? Your _romance_ problems? To the God of the Dead? _You_ who give me all of these silly hassles, _you _who keep _killing_ everyone and sending them in to be _my_ problem? Don't you _know _how _annoyi_-"

"Shut up! _Don't_ you _know _how _annoying _it _is_ when _people_ emphasize _every_ other _**fucking**_word?" Ares threw up his hands, bringing them down (onto my couch, which got dented, and had it's one-of-a-kind cotton fabric stretched to a near-tearing point) and fisting them, then un-fisting them to bring them up to his face, covering it in frustration, "Gods! Quit _whining_, will ya? Just..."

There was a long, long pause as Ares tightened his hand until the muscles clenched, and the knuckles began to shake with the effort. More than hard enough to break his own skull, Hades surmised, "Yeah. Okay? Dammit. Yeah. I fuckin' came to you, who I thought would be the last person in the whole shit-faced universe who wouldn't...fuckin'..._judge_ me, because you're a _goddamned freak_, too." His voice got too quiet for the mountain of a man, so much so that Hades let the insult slip for the moment.

Now, don't get him wrong, though. Don't make Hades out to be a compassionate, loving soul who was just dying for someone to come to him, for a companion. He knows you lot, how you dramatize kindness, but it wasn't a kindness.

He wasn't sympathetic in the least, you see, but he _was_ curious if Ares was going to come out with it all. Would Ares make himself out to be a bigger fool than he already was?

Hades wanted to know, so he stayed quiet as t his fellow god continued. "You're right. Totally right. I came to you about...about some stupid-ass...fuck-faced...god_damned_..._romance fuck-ass godforsaken fucking_ _problem_ and it was a _stupid_ fuck-shit goddamned idea and I can't even fuckin' believe this shit!" Ares' voice was rising as he went on, and now he was bellowing, like every bit of anger he'd ever surprised in his existence was back with a vengeance.

"This is_ all_ bullshit! I didn't even do _any fuckin' thing_! And suddenly he's back on Olympus and fuckin' _fine an' dandy; _oh, _and_ he _hates_ my _fucking guts_ for _no _reason what so _fucking_ ever! Dammit!" The over-stressed god was up and pacing now; pacing, of course, meaning stomping sporadically and breaking holes in the walls after a period or two of stillness, accompanied by bouts of ranting and incoherencies.

Well.

That wasn't quite the plea for a listening ear Hades had been expecting.

Of course, it was better than something that may have actually induced sympathy in the dead-inside God, so he relaxed back into his seat and contemplated his ceiling as his visitor raged on.

"_-__**fuck**_!" He didn't even need to catch his breath after that, which Hades found mildly impressive as the god forged on, "Fuck 'im! Acting like everything I did for him, like every time I thought of him, like every bit of me was a load of shit! Fuck his sister, too! Fuck every goddamned hell-shitty thing I ever did to make 'im feel like he was worth my fucking _spit_, let alone my stupid-ass, fucked up _sympathy_!" He spat the word out like it was poisonous.

He'd never admit to it aloud, but the entire rant reminded Hades mildly of a past life he no longer acknowledged. A happier life, perhaps. A life like a story from a world-renowned novel, a story about a god of a man and his mortal wife, with whom he had two children. Those two beautiful, shining demigod babies, accompanied by his wife were beyond god status in the man's eyes. They were brighter than the stars, more gorgeous than the goddesses.

They made him think he had something special. They made him think the world was so damned special, those darling mortals.

With whom he thought he would make the world into something beautiful beyond imagination. Something worthy of the joy he felt. Of the joy he wanted everyone to feel.

But, in the nick of time, he destroyed it, much like the man had destroyed everything he touched, and would continue to do so as time passed.

All's well that ends well, you know.

And...that was it. That was the Olympian ending. That was the gods' whole, glorious, unending lives. Nothing ever changed. Not for long.

"Uh-_huh_." Hades nodded again, closing his eyes against the flood of emotion he was receiving from his fellow god. He could do that because the look of utter betrayal in Ares' eyes didn't remind him of anything, and it never would.

Ares didn't acknowledge it this time, "Hah! Can you even believe it? Why didn't I skin his ass the minute I found 'im? I'd give the whiny punk somethin' to fade about, that's for damn sure." Ares was getting to the period in his rant-cycle wherein he'd want to break the first thing he saw again, and at this rate Hades wouldn't have anything left than ruin to look forward to after a long day of hating everything.

If he said the right thing, he could probably make Ares leave, at least.

But who said Hades _ever _said the right thing?

"Nice to know you don't cry when you're this upset, Ares." Hades didn't take his eyes off of the ceiling, and never had he wished to be in Zeus' place so reverently as he did now as he spoke, slowly, "I really might have lost some respect for you."

Ares could take the world collapsing in on him better than Hades had, he guessed. Admitting that took quite a bit of force, actually. You may not have known, but Hades had a bit of a problem with holding grudges, especially over superiority.

Not that it was obvious.

The War God growled, looking ready to hit something again, egged on by his words, if nothing else; Hades wasn't surprised in the slightest that it just-so happened to be his low hanging chandelier.

His antique. Gorgeous. Glass. Collectable. Museum-worthy. Wonderful, chandelier.

He was quite distraught, yes.

But, he wasn't at all surprised. That was just his luck, after all.

* * *

**A/N: AAAAND, CUT.**

**I thought you might like some variety.**

**Variety meaning Hades POV.**

**:D**

**This was fun to write, dudes, ya don' even KNOW. Can't wait t' decide...um...I mean, show you guys who Apollo's confide-ee is. Because I planned this out. Totally.**

**Ehh, anyway, I hope ya blokes enjoyed it.**


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